


Smallest Moments

by NoctemDecore



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Aesthetic Inspired, Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, Slytherin
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-19
Updated: 2020-06-09
Packaged: 2021-03-02 22:20:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 892
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24274201
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NoctemDecore/pseuds/NoctemDecore
Summary: Gryffindor is that feeling in your chest when you are lost but don't know if you want to be found.Ravenclaw is the breath caught in your throat as a bustling world war to steal it away.Hufflepuff is the lingering goodbye as everything moves forward without you.Slytherin is the silence where you have everything to say but no way to say it.
Comments: 2
Kudos: 2





	1. Gryffindor

**Gryffindor**

~

You stand at the railing. The wind lifts your hair until it lays across your eyes and in your mouth and the would is a series of horizontal brown bars. You push off and the world spins and rights itself.

The air is still then and you keep walking because the railing isn’t there anymore and was never there.

That was always just you and the fog gathers on your wrists and your hands are wet when your fingers touch. You know you should call out— _Hello? Are you there?_ —but you won’t-can’t so you keep still.

They pass and the fog swirls into the vacuum left behind. Then the trees fall away and the lamplight shines bright.

Behind you, you know, is home and warm pies and blankets by a fire but the golden glow shines down the street and the fog dances around them.

You heed the call and step away. You do not look back because you can feel the lights and you don’t know where you are going but there’s _something out there_ and for once you just need to _go go go go_ because your chest is filling and you are running, following the lights down the street and the silver tunnel.

Your hand splays across the leather and you pick it up _mine_ before anyone can ask you and you put it up on your wall and you look at it every time before you close your eyes then you open them again to see the map and dive into the photographs until they come alive and you wake up and you need to go and the fog curls and beckons at your door and the lamplights laughs and call you and you just put a roll into your pack before going.

You will come back someday but for now you don't know where you are but stay silent and the brown bars turn into trees into buildings the size of the gods to a flea and a forest along the curve of the river with wolves that leap and your blood is the same red as their teeth but you have bandages and the leaves on the trees, on the ground are crisp apples and fire and the elk pass until the wolves leave and the lamplight is gone but the fog is there again, curling and licking and you grab your pack and run and find the photographs but everything has changed and there are loud voices but you have a louder one and you finally come home, months and years later, rubies on your back and golden mirrors in your pockets and you smile and look at the leather maps on the wall and know you will leave when the fog comes calling.


	2. Slytherin

**Slytherin**

~

They ask you a question and you look at them. You know it. You know it. But they look at you and you can’t speak.

The clock ticks over their head because you are correct and you know you are right and you just _know_ but the words don’t come.

The clock swings the other direction and you need to say something, anything and you are reaching _reaching_ but your voice only rises higher and higher in your breast, swelling and singing and pleading but you open your lips and close them once. You purse your lips because what you would say would destroy them _destroy rip tear_ and for once you will not.

The clock swings back and they laugh but you breathe once and let them because you are better than them and you know the true meaning of pride comes not from the wretched devastation of others but from the steady climb to the top and the smallest breath of pure fresh air between hidden battles. So you lift your chin because they can laugh and laugh but you are better than them and will be better than them and the world will all know it.

The music, the discordant notes in your chest slyly honey themselves until they can slide up your throat and into your mouth and you keep your lips shut tightly and allow the notes _sweet as jasmine and sea salt_ to hover on your tongue because you will never swallow them and they play a song that tastes like coffee and citrus and you let them listen to the laughter and remember every taste and colour to play back from the top of the ladder.

The laughter turns bitter and mocking and you finally speak years later, months then you look back and your voice is honey _sweet_ and jasmine and sea salt and coffee and citrus and the notes in your chest are lovely and dance on your fingers as you reach for the next rung and climb higher.

They reach out a hand _help me pull me up you need me you can’t do this alone you don’t deserve this_ but you step higher and look down and you don’t laugh because that’s what they did _and it hurt until you nearly screamed and wasted that pretty little voice_ but instead you smile and all the world sees you climb higher _highest_ and you know stories will be told of the one that flew and fought and climbed and reached and touched the sky to move the stars.

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by jinxy-valentine's lovely tumblr posts. Particularly "The Houses as...those Moments"
> 
> Kudo, comment, subscribe or just enjoy. Thank you for reading my rambling work.


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